Tag Archives: babies

When Life just Doesn’t Seem Fair

09 Friday Sep 2016

Posted by in Uncategorized

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Sometimes, life just doesn’t seem equitable, reasonable, or – dare I say it? – fair. Think of discrimination, ableism, injustice for starters. For the most part, it seems clear that in those instances there is a right and a wrong, a hero and a villain. But what if – as in much of life – there is no hero or villain? What if life seems to go swimmingly for someone you know and love, someone you wish the best for… someone who gets the one thing you’ve fought for, prayed for, dreamed of for so long? And what if you are that friend, relative or loved one, who knows someone who has struggled so much with something that seems to have come to you so easily?
I’ve been there. I’ve been on both ends of this theoretical table, and I can’t say I have any easy answers. A year ago I got myself a shiny new job, with all of the hope that entails, and I felt intensely guilty about having success after a sudden layoff, while many others – with and without disabilities, with a wide variety of skills – were struggling just to get interviews. Now that I’ve been back on the employment journey for several months, I’ve seen many others find the success I’ve previously enjoyed, even while I am struggling and pushing against discrimination disguised as compliments on how inspirational I am. It is their time to shine – it truly is – but while I wish them nothing but happiness, their success makes me both thrilled and miserable simultaneously.

But it’s not only about employment. What about being the “token single” in a huge group full of couples? Or the only (involuntarily) childless couple in your church congregation? Attending or planning a wedding after a messy breakup or the death of a partner is both joyous and heartbreaking…

And those who are rejoicing are often struggling to reconcile their obvious (and reasonable) joy with the thought they can’t laugh as loudly or smile as broadly because they know and love someone who feels like that laughter and those smiles are shots to the heart.

So what do we do? We can’t walk around dressed in metaphorical black all the time – life is full of joy and sorrow, and we can’t deny the existance of either. We all love, hurt, succeed and fail – and those who truly care about us understand that our tears of joy at their celebration mingle with those of frustration or (occasionally) despair that we’re still hoping or fighting or praying for that same thing for ourselves. No true friend or loved one wants to take away the joy and success of another. And when we have that success, we feel guilty in a way – that we can’t sprinkle magic dust on those we love and grant them in equal portion the joy we’ve found through love, birth, employment, celebration.

But, please, I beg you, wherever you are, whatever your circumstances, don’t deny your joy, your pain, your frustration, your love. Those who are struggling, wish all the success and happiness in the world to those of whom you are envious; if they’ve done nothing hurtful or illegal or unethical, they deserve that happiness. And for those who are thrilled beyond words at your new job, expected baby, celebration of love… gently share that joy with us who are currently not as fortunate. In your sensitivity to those fragile feelings of hopelessness and despair, you both acknowledge your happiness (there’s no need to hide it) and the complex emotions of support and envy of those who currently can’t celebrate such success for themselves. And yet… don’t hide it! Please, don’t hide it! Your happiness, success, and joy tells those of us fighting in the trenches – in moments of weakness and darkness and pain – that one day, it will be us, and you’ll be right there cheering us on and lifting us up and holding our hands as we welcome our own joy and success into our lives.

I will Never Ask to Hold your Baby

03 Thursday Dec 2015

Posted by in blindness

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***Blogger’s note: It was kindly pointed out to me that a previous edit of this post identified certain individuals and situations. This was not and never has been my intent, so I have removed any identifying information. Thank you for reading and commenting.

 

One day last week, all conversation stopped when an infant was brought into the room. Four women cooed, passed around and fussed over the baby. I was about to open my mouth and ask if I could hold her when I was asked, “Would you like to touch the baby while someone else holds her?” My heart sank. I wanted more than anything to ask if I could hold the baby, but words just wouldn’t come out. Even thinking about it now, nearly a week later, I regret not asking the question, even as I realize that a large piece of me feared that the answer would be no.

 

I have friends with children, some of whom I have known since they were infants and who are now approaching double digits in age. Looking back, I doubt I have ever initiated a baby-holding experience; I would be asked if I wanted to hold the baby or, in one memorable instance, had a baby unceremoniously plunked in my lap. I don’t have an exact reason why this is, but I know a piece of me feels like the world would end if I were to ask to hold a baby and was told no, that’s OK, or – perhaps even worse – miss the horrified or awkward or mistrustful glance that would accompany a hesitant, “OK.”

 

And yet, one day, I wish to be a mother. It’s been my dream for as long as I could remember. Several jobs ago, I thought I would stay at that job until I became pregnant and went on maternity leave, but life had other plans. Over the past few months, through all the changes that have gone on in my life, I have thought more about motherhood. What about being pregnant? Would I have to respond graciously to such insensitive questions like “Where’s the father in all this?” or “Are you allowed to have a baby?” or “Are you going to keep it?” And that’s BEFORE giving birth! My biggest fear is having social workers involved in my parenting because of a perception that a disabled parent can’t take care of an infant (think that won’t happen? Think again).

 

Even a basic call-out to blind friends has produced heartbreaking fear and misconception of childcare capabilities expressed by family members, friends of friends, and strangers. More than one blind father has had store employees thank their 4-year-old for “taking Daddy to the store”. One friend (the go-to “Cool” babysitter of the neighborhood) had one family refuse to have her look after their children unless a sighted (read: capable) person was with her. Another was told that his child was invited to a birthday party… only if a sighted parent brought them. And those were just the stories I heard in the span of about thirty minutes, with more comments of “Don’t get me started; I’m talked to like I can’t POSSIBLY take care of myself, much less a child.” My heart grieves for a world where this is so.

 

So for those who have children, I don’t wish to come across awkward and uncertain, but in fact I really am. My arms ache to hold that newborn, and I’d LOVE to get down on the floor and play dolls with your six-year-old. But I want to respect your autonomy as a parent to decide who watches, cuddles and holds your wonderful bundle of joy. but every piece of me is screaming that it’s something I would love. But I can not ask. I don’t think I could handle even a hesitant yes, and I know I couldn’t handle a no. So please, ask me, because right now I’m not strong enough to take those first toddling steps myself.